The Russians Are Coming! The Russians Are Coming!
by Danja
Summary: AU. Theora is kidnapped. This is a re-write of the written-but-unproduced ep "Theora's Tale". A synopsis is available at bit.ly/7MaNc1 . Please R&R. NEW EPILOGUE UP.
1. Chapter 1

**The Russians Are Coming! The Russians Are Coming!**

**Chapter One

* * *

**

A/N: This is an AU re-write/updating of the written but unproduced ep, "Theora's Tale".

* * *

TITLE CARD: 26 KIDS AND COUNTING

ANNOUNCER VOICE-OVER:

"Time now for '26 Kids and Counting'!"

CUT TO:

A stout middle-aged woman with disheveled blond hair and a baby on one knee faces the camera.

"I feel that the Lord has blessed us with 26 kids," the woman says to the camera as she bounces the baby on her knee. Behind her, children ranging in age from infants and toddlers to five- and six-year-olds crawl and run around the room screaming, crying, shouting, and otherwise causing chaos.

"We have a child for every letter of the alphabet," the woman continues. "The oldest is Aaron, the youngest is Zachary ..." At this point, a child begins crying off-camera.

"ISAIAH! JEREMIAH!" the woman calls out to the off-camera children. "QUIT TEASING WILLIAM!" The woman then gets up and walks towards the unseen children.

STATIC

* * *

FADE IN:

At four-thirty in the morning, Theora walked back to her apartment from Tom's Mini-Mart carrying a bagel and a cup of coffee.

All at once, a black SUV pulled up alongside the curb. As the SUV came to a stop, two men dressed head-to-toe in black poured out of the vehicle.

One man grabbed Theora by the throat and smothered her face with a chloroform-soaked rag, knocking her unconscious and causing to drop her coffee and bagel.

The two men quickly dragged the unconscious Theora back into the SUV, shut the door behind them, and sped away into the night.

* * *

"I just got off the phone with Dick Best," said Murray to Edison. The two were meeting in Murray's office.

"Dick Best? The billionaire?" Edison exclaimed. "_THE_ Dick Best?"

Murray nodded. "The very same," he said. "He wants to see us."

"What for?"

"It's about Theora," Murray replied. "She's been kidnapped."

"_KIDNAPPED?_"

Murray nodded. "She was taken off the street earlier this morning."

"What does she have to do with Dick Best?"

Murray licked his lips. "She's his daughter."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"Teodora," the tall, muscular bald man called out to Theora in thickly-accented English. "Teodora."

Theora sat on the floor and up against the wall of the wooden shed. A lone nearby window was covered in chain-link fencing.

"What's the matter?" the bald man asked. He had a square jaw and was in his early-to-mid forties. He wore black sweat pants, a gray t-shirt, black combat boots, and a .45 semi-automatic pistol in a shoulder holster. "You no talk?"

Theora crossed her arms and stared stonily at the bald man. Her teeth were now on edge.

_I haven't been "Teodora" in ten years,_ Theora thought as she glared at the bald man. _There is no one by that name in this room.

* * *

_

"The woman you know today as 'Theora Jones' ," Mr. Best began. "was christened Teodora Anastasia Barbu in Bucharest, Romania."

Mr. Best, Edison, and Murray stood in Mr. Best's lavishly appointed home office. Mr. Best - a slender man in his mid-sixties with silver-to-gray hair - stood behind a Louis XV desk, facing out towards Edison and Murray.

Richard "Dick" Best was the founder, Chairman, and owner of Network Three, one of the world's first global television networks.

"My wife and I adopted her from a Romanian orphanage," Mr. Best continued.

"Interesting," said Edison.

Mr. Best paused. "Mr. Carter, there's a million things that you don't know about her," he warned.

"Like what?"

Mr. Best crossed his arms and turned his back to Edison and Murray.

"She has a dark side," said Mr. Best as he stared at the wall behind his desk. "A wild, _untamed_ side."

Edison then remembered what Theora had once told him ... _"There's a lot I haven't told you about myself_."

"If you don't mind my asking, what has she done … that's so terrible?" Edison asked.

"Sex, drugs … that sort of thing," Mr. Best replied.

"When's the last time you saw her?" Edison asked.

"Ten years ago," Mr. Best replied. "Shortly before she left school. After that, she sent me a note saying that she'd legally changed her name … and I never saw her again."

"Have they made any demands?" Murray asked.

"They want a 30-million credit electronic bond," Mr. Best replied. "They said they'd call back at eleven-hundred hours to arrange a drop-off."

"We'll do everything we can to find her," said Edison.

Mr. Best turned back to face Edison and Murray and plucked a business card from a silver-plated holder on his desk. He took a pen from its silver-plated holder and scratched a pair of phone numbers - home and cell - on the card.

"Mr. Carter, when you see her, would you please give her this?" Mr. Best asked as he handed the card to Edison.

Edison slipped the business card into his wallet and said, "Will do."

* * *

"Who w-w-walks away from an 2-b-b-billion c-credit f-f-fortune?" Max Headroom asked. Edison was now back at Network 23, hunched over Theora's computer, with Max appearing on the monitor.

"Someone with a _VERY_ good reason," Edison replied. He then made a few keystrokes and called up a vidphone. The image of Bryce Lynch appeared on the monitor.

"Bryce, it's Edison," said Edison. "I need you to trace a number."

"Shoot," Bryce replied.

"Area code five-one-two, five-five-five, one-four-seven-eight."

"Timestamp?" Bryce asked.

"Oh-six-thirty hours," Edison replied.

Bryce made some keystrokes off screen. A police mug shot of the bald man with the square jaw appeared onscreen.

"Cell phone," Bryce replied. "Registered to an Oleg Bakunin." He then made a few more keystrokes and added, "Russian Mob Boss. One of Interpol's Most Wanted. Wanted on multiple counts of drug trafficking, conspiracy, extortion, solicitation of murder …"

_Guy's Mob, all right, _Edison thought.

"The call came from some place in Clapham County," said Bryce. "They appear to be clustered around this one site … kind of a wooded area."

"Hideout?"

"Maybe," Bryce replied.

"Thanks, Bryce," said Edison as he hung up the vidphone.

"What could the Russian Mob want with Theora?" Murray asked.

"They must've found out her connection with Dick Best ... and they want to cash in," Edison replied.

"What now?" Murray asked as he stood behind Edison.

Edison turned around to face Murray and said, "We wait."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

"Why you no talk to me?" Oleg whined to Theora.

Theora glared at Oleg in silence. _What do _YOU _think?_

It was then that a thin, lanky associate with blonde hair walked in through the door. He said something in Russian to Oleg which caused Oleg to break out in laughter.

"He say, 'Dog pen perfect place for bitch like you!' " said Oleg to Theora, translating. He then squatted down, leaned in close to Theora, and hissed, "Rich bitch!"

Theora spit in Oleg's face. Oleg slapped Theora across the face in reply.

"Bark like a dog, bitch!" Oleg barked, showering Theora's face with spittle as he spat out the words.

Theora winced, crossed her arms, and sat in stony silence once more, glaring at Oleg.

* * *

"What's our ETA, Control?" asked Edison over the comm. He was driving a marked Network 23 remote van.

Sitting in the passenger seat was Curt, a friend of his who just happened to be a mercenary (and who furthermore just happened to be in town and between jobs … as opposed to being off in some Third World war zone somewhere).

Curt was a stocky man in his early forties. His long salt-and-pepper hair was tied up in a foot-long ponytail. He carried in his lap Mr. Best's electronic bond.

"You've got an ETA of about four minutes," Bryce replied over the comm.

"Thanks, Bryce," Edison replied. "Carter out."

* * *

"_Absolutely not!" Murray cried, putting his foot down earlier at Network 23 headquarters. _

"_It's not for me … it's for Theora," Edison countered._

"_How is taking a mobile unit out there going to help _HER?_" Murray shot back._

"_I want to make a statement_,"_ Edison replied. "When they bring her out, it'll be a comfort for her to know that we're here for her._

"_What could be more reassuring than seeing a big, marked, Network 23 mobile unit parked in the driveway?"_

"_Can't you find a less _EXPENSIVE_ means of making a statement?" Murray snapped. _

"_We're dealing with the Russian Mob_,"_ said Edison. _

"_I know," said Murray. "And I'd just as soon rather not have one of OUR vehicles becoming target practice!"_

"_WE'RE dealing with the Russian Mob … and _THEORA_ is having to deal with the Russian Mob …_ ALONE,"_ Edison replied calmly. _

"_If she's going to make it out of there alive, she needs all the help Network 23 can muster."_

_Murray sighed, walked over to a metal key cabinet hanging on the wall, opened the door, and pulled out a key to a Network 23 remote unit._

"_Unit Four," said Murray as he handed the key to Edison. _

"_Thanks, Murray," said Edison as he turned and walked out the door._

_Murray opened the door to his office and called out after Edison, "And bring it back with a full tank of gas!"_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Theora heard the rumble of an idling engine. She got up on one knee and peered over the window sill, taking care not to be seen.

She was greeted with the sight of Edison and Curt getting out of a marked Network 23 mobile unit parked in the driveway.

_Edison!_

* * *

"Wonder if he knows we're here?" Edison asked as he and Curt got out of the van.

"We're a few minutes early," Curt replied. "He may keep us waiting, just to keep us off balance."

* * *

The door to the shed opened. A red-haired henchman in his late-twenties entered the room. He carried an AK-47 slung over his shoulder.

Theora looked up at the henchman. _What do _YOU _want?_

The henchman undid his belt and his pants. He pulled his pants, belt, underwear, and jock strap down to his ankles.

The henchman then grinned and said something in Russian to Theora.

_Here?_ NOW? Theora thought.

Theora looked towards the window … Towards Edison … Towards freedom.

* * *

"Do you have the money?" Oleg asked as he arrived onto the driveway to greet Edison and Curt.

"30-million credit electronic bond … just as you requested," Edison replied.

"Let me see the bond," said Oleg.

"Let us see Theora," said Edison.

* * *

Theora tugged on the barrel of the gun and patted the floor, gesturing for the henchman (who didn't speak a word of English) to drop the weapon.

The henchman looked at Theora. _Nyet._

* * *

"The bond … _please_," said Oleg.

"You want your money, take us to Theora," Edison demanded.

* * *

Once more, Theora tugged on the barrel of the gun, and then patted the floor, gesturing for the henchman to drop the weapon.

Once more, the henchman looked at Theora. _Nyet._

Theora sat up, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and looked up at the henchman.

_Drop the gun … or no sex._

The henchman looked at Theora, sighed resignedly, and then laid the gun down on the floor. _You win._

* * *

All at once, a man's blood-curdling scream rang throughout the compound.

"Excuse me," said Oleg as he turned to leave.

"Does the scream have anything to do with Theora?" Edison asked.

Oleg turned back towards Edison and Curt. "Come with me," he said, motioning for them to follow.

* * *

Oleg, Edison, and Curt arrived at the shed to find the henchman on the floor, grabbing his crotch and writhing on his back in agony like an overturned turtle. His AK-47 was missing. His pants, underwear, belt, and jock strap were wrapped around his ankles.

The henchman screamed in violent Russian.

"What's he saying?" Edison asked Curt in a stage whisper.

"My Russian's a little rusty, but I think it's something along the lines of 'The bitch _BIT _me!' ," Curt replied.

Oleg peered inside the shed. Theora was nowhere to be found.

Oleg entered the shed, stomped on the henchman's crotch, and barked a reply in Russian, causing him to howl in agony all the more.

" 'You fool' ," said Curt, translating for Edison. " 'You allowed yourself to be defeated by a WOMAN?' "

"_OLEG!_" a woman's voice called out from behind Oleg.

Oleg turned around in the doorway. He was soon confronted by the sight of Theora standing behind a nearby bush, leveling the red-haired henchman's AK-47 directly at him.

"Throw the gun away … the one in your shoulder holster," Theora commanded.

"Can you shoot that …" Oleg asked. Before he could finish his sentence, Theora fired a shot into the shed, making a neat entry hole just to the right of Oleg's right ear.

"Offhand, I'd say 'Yes'," Curt quipped.

Oleg gingerly took his pistol out of his revolver and threw it away from him.

"You … with the Ponytail," said Theora, cocking her head towards Curt, all the while keeping the AK-47 leveled on Oleg.

"Me?" Curt inquired.

"Are you with Edison?" Theora asked.

"Uh, yeah," Curt replied. "We're friends.

"My name's Curt."

"Grab Oleg's gun," Theora commanded.

"Sure thing," Curt replied cheerfully as he scrambled to retrieve Oleg's .45 semi-auto.

* * *

"She doesn't mess around," said Curt in a stage whisper as he retook his place beside Edison.

Edison closed his eyes and shook his head … No, she doesn't.

Curt cocked the pistol and handed it to Edison. "Cover the rear," he whispered to Edison.

Edison nodded and obeyed. Curt then reached down, took a 9-millimeter Beretta out of an ankle holster, and jogged over to Oleg's right flank.

As if on cue, a blonde henchman appeared from the right side of the shed. Curt barked a command in Russian and slammed the blonde henchman spread-eagle against the wall.

Two brown-haired henchman appeared from the left side of the shed. Edison leveled the confiscated .45 at the two brown-haired henchman and shoved them both towards Curt.

"COVER ME!" Curt cried. A few more commands in Russian later, the two brown-haired henchmen joined their blonde companion on the right side of the shed, spread-eagle against the wall.

* * *

As Theora, Curt, and Edison were taking care of business in the back of the shed, a convoy of sheriff's cruisers were making their way up the driveway, lights blazing and sirens wailing.

* * *

"Here comes the cavalry," said Curt.

Within moments, the shed was surrounded by sheriff's deputies waving revolvers.

"Somebody report a kidnapping?" asked one deputy as he surveyed the scene.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Edison asked Theora over Chinese takeout at her apartment.

"I grew up with guns," Theora replied. "Mr. Best … had a gun collection."

* * *

"_This is the Kalashnikov Automatic Rifle, Model Nineteen Forty-Seven," said Mr. Best as he showed the rifle to a twelve-year-old Teodora. "Otherwise known as the AK-47._

"_It makes a distinctive sound when fired. It is the preferred weapon of our enemies."_

"_What enemies?" Teodora asked._

"_What?"_

"_You said it is 'the preferred weapon of our enemies'…"_

_Mr. Best blushed. "There are no enemies," he said. "At least, you, your mother, and I don't have any."_

_Teodora looked at Mr. Best quizzically. "I don't understand …"_

"_I'm sorry. It's what I was taught in the military," Mr. Best replied. "Force of habit._

_"I didn't mean to scare you."_

* * *

"You … _fascinate_ me," said Edison.

Theora looked at Edison quizzically. "I do …?"

Edison took a bite of his kung pao chicken and nodded. "You're practically a story in and of yourself," he said as he swallowed the chicken. "Romanian émigré grows up in an orphanage, is later adopted by a billionaire …"

"It's ... not something I like to talk about," said Theora softly.

"I would imagine so," said Edison. He then noticed the unopened box of Chinese takeout sitting on the coffee table before Theora. "You're not eating."

"Sorry," said Theora. She then added softly, "Just not hungry."

"Still trying to come down from this morning?" Edison asked.

Theora nodded.

"Your father said he hasn't seen you in almost ten years," said Edison, changing the subject.

Theora trembled. "I can't face him," she said. "I've done things … I regret."

"Mr. Best mentioned something about sex and drugs …"

Theora blushed. "I'd rather not talk about it," she said. "I haven't been that person in over ten years."

"So … how do you go from doing that to hacking computers?" Edison asked.

"I met a guy … moved in with him," Theora replied. "He taught me to hack."

"You could've written your own ticket," said Edison. "You could've been one of the top brass at Network Three.

"Why did you ..."

"Walk away?" Theora interjected, completing Edison's thought.

"You were worth_ billions!_"

"_MR. BEST_ is worth billions," Theora gently corrected. "Theora Jones ... is _NOT._"

"Try putting that one over on the Russian Mob."

After a long pause, Theora took another bite of fried rice and said, "That which Daddy giveth ..."

"Daddy can also ... taketh away," said Edison, finishing Theora's thought.

Theora smiled. _He_ DOES _understand!_

Edison regarded Theora for a moment. _I can't imagine what she's been through, _he thought. _To have your world suddenly snatched away from you at such a young age._

Edison reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He then opened his wallet and pulled out the business card that Mr. Best had given him that morning.

"He wants to see you," said Edison as he handed the card to Theora.

Theora accepted the card from Edison. "Thanks."

"He … _misses_ you," said Edison.

"Thanks ... for _everything_," said Theora.

"Pleased to meet you … _Teodora_," said Edison.

Theora smiled. "The pleasure is all mine."

THE END


	6. Chapter 6

**Epilogue

* * *

**

"I can't see you any more," said Theora over the cordless phone. It was two days later. Theora was on the phone with Mike, an on-again, off-again lover.

"_WHAT?_" Mike exclaimed.

"This whole experience ... with the Russian Mob. It's left me … shaken to the core."

"It's Edison Carter, isn't it?" Mike interrogated. "You're sleeping with Edison Carter!"

"I'm not sleeping with Edison Carter. I'm not sleeping with _ANYONE_," Theora shot back. "I need something … you can't provide."

"What do you want?" Mike asked. "Name it."

"I want something … _more _than sex," said Theora.

"I'm your man, baby," said Mike. "Whatever you want, I've got it."

"I don't _KNOW_ what I want," said Theora.

"What does he have that I don't?" Mike whined. "The fancy car? The bulging credit account?"

"You think you can just _BUY_ your way into my life?" Theora snapped, now visibly angry. "What I want, you can't buy in a store."

"What _DO_ you want?" Mike shot back.

"For the first time in my life, I've met a man … who makes me feel good about myself," Theora explained. "I realize now that there's a lot … that I've been missing.

"I want something … more than physical. Something more than sex."

"Are you sure you should be doing this?" Mike asked. "You know, they say you shouldn't make any major decisions so soon after a traumatic event."

"I told you, I realize now that I need something ... more than sex," Theora replied. "I want to ... _feel_ something.

"I want ... _intimacy_."

"We're not _INTIMATE _enough?"

"I guess what I want is ... _emotional _intimacy."

Mike let out a sigh on the other end of the line. "Good-bye, Theora."

_Click_. Dial tone.

Theora shut off the cordless phone and stared off into space_. I sure hope I'm doing the right thing._


End file.
